


Pouring

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27560242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Richie gets stuck outside during a storm - and tries to get extra sympathy points.
Relationships: Jon Bon Jovi/Richie Sambora
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Pouring

It was raining. 

Actually, 'pouring' was a more accurate term for it. 

The streets were slippery with water, and the air was bitter with cold. The sky was a dark, stormy shade of grey, and everybody with a good head on their shoulders had long made for home. In fact, they'd made it, or were now huddled underneath doorways with sodden newspapers held over their heads, shivering in the freezing water as it poured down onto them without care. 

Richie supposed that, at first sign of wind, he should've just walked into a shop or someplace and waited it out, but anybody who knew him would've laughed at the suggestion, because Richie was a stubborn person, and lord knows that when he got it into his head to get home as soon as humanely possible, he decided to do it. 

And there were no regrets, really, except that Richie wished he had brought a thicker coat with him. 

Or an umbrella. 

His mother had always brought on with her, even if the sun was shining so bright that it threatened to give them heatstroke, and Richie knew that he should've done the same, because the sky was thundering in incoming warning, but he had thought that it would just be a short walk to the mailbox. 

Obviously, Richie had been wrong, because now his hair was sticking to his face and his shoes kept squeaking. Everybody was staring at him through the windows, and Richie felt his face burn in embarrassment despite the chill. He looked like a lone survivor in some sort of apocalyptic movie, but yet, Jon was persistent in his task of getting home - even though it took him the better part of an hour, and ended with him soaked to the bone and standing in the threshold of the doorway. 

"Er - Rich?" David said, peering over his shoulder from where he sat, thumbing through an old magazine and eating soggy cereal. 

Richie looked at him. "Yes?" He said politely. 

Looking concerned, David stood up and walked until he was behind the countertop. "You're - um - soaked." 

"Ah, yes." Richie nodded, as if in confirmation. "It's raining out there." He motioned towards the rain that was continuously pouring on behind him. 

From somewhere else in the studio, there came a loud thump, and Jon appeared, holding a towel. "Jeez, I was just about to go out there and look for you." He said, walking over and wrapping the towel around Richie hurriedly. "You're soaked." 

Richie smiled. "Ah, I was gonna take a shower later, anyways." 

Jon rolled his eyes and procured a smaller towel from out of nowhere, which he used to begin the process of the mess that was Richie's hair. "And why didn't you go inside somewhere?" 

"Eh." Richie shrugged. "It didn't cross my mind." He leaned down so that Jon could get his hair better. "And I was kinda hoping to finish that movie that we were watching..." He trailed off with a smile. 

"Oh, god." Jon lost his fight and smiled. "You're such an idiot." 

" _But -_ I'm a romantic idiot." Richie pointed out. 

Jon reached over, shut the door, and locked it. "Yeah." He admitted, "Very romantic." 

Richie wasn't even really cold anymore, but he shivered for effect as he stood there and allowed Jon to dry him off. "I'm freezing." He said, wrapping his arms around his torso in an attempt for extra sympathy. "Can you help me get into some warm clothes?" He motioned to his own damp clothing. 

Obviously not buying it, judging by his eye roll, Jon pat Richie's on the back. "I'm sure that you're very cold." He said, nonetheless. "C'mon." 


End file.
